


Can't Get You Off My Mind

by FanWriter



Category: Elementary
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2100057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanWriter/pseuds/FanWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just like the title says. Joan's POV. Slight spoilers for season 3, so don't read if you haven't been to the CBS website for updates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Get You Off My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this pretty quickly, but I like how it turned out. We need more Joan/Mycroft stories on here.

Joan pulled her phone out of her pocket in annoyance when she heard the beeping tone. Checking the screen, she rolled her eyes upon seeing Andrew's at the top of the text. She had begun to date Andrew a couple of weeks after Mycroft left to go into hiding. She'd ran into him - literally - on one of her morning jogs, and, hoping he would be able to distract her from her British amour, they'd exchanged phone numbers. **_Busy. Gotta case. Rain check?_** she typed back. After three dates, she'd started asking to 'reschedule', five times now.

**Maybe tomorrow night then. How about that new restaurant, Mercelli's? 7 o'clock?**

Her gut clenched. Mercelli's was the new Italian place that had been built where Diogenes, Mycroft's restaurant, once stood. **_Sure. Can't wait._** Joan stuffed the phone back in her pocket, already thinking of excuses why not to go. Really, the guy was great. Kind, assertive, charming ... and all that other stuff that turns most girls to mush. She sighed. He just ... he wasn't ... Mycroft.

''Hey Joan.'' Detective Bell came around to the front of the desk where she was looking over some case files.

''Hey. What's up?'' she said, pulling off her glasses.

''I just left Sherlock. He said he could use your assistance.''

''Really?''

''Really. To be honest, I think that new assistant of his is getting on his nerves.''

''No surprise,'' she muttered. She stood and pulled on her coat. ''I'll head on over now. I'm hitting a dead end at the moment with this,'' she said, gesturing to the file. ''Bye.''

''See you later.''

She walked out of the precinct and hailed a cab. Giving the driver the address, she sat back and stared out the window, thoughts back on Mycroft. Her mind went over the all-to-frequent questions: is he safe; where is he; does he miss Sherlock; does he miss me or has he moved on? The last question, last two really, was the one that came up the most - and the only one she didn't have an answer to. Of course he would miss Sherlock, he was his brother. He should be safe with the NSA guarding him, and where he was didn't really matter as long as he was safe. What encompassed, and eluded, her mind the most was if he felt that sting in his heart whenever he thought about her, the same way hers did about him? Did his breath catch when he saw someone who looked like her? Did the smell of tea bring to life memories of sitting together in the kitchen talking? Did he hack into the DMV just so he could have a picture of her? Blushing, she recalled every ounce of embarrassment she'd felt when Sherlock caught her doing so at the precinct. Feeling the cab come to a halt, she thanked the driver, handing him a few bills, and stepped out. She had started to make her way over to Gregson when he looked up at her and nodded his head in the direction of the brick house to his left. Nodding back in response, she changed direction and walked up the steps. Stepping inside, she saw Sherlock's silhouette on the wall in one of the rooms. Taking a deep breath, she pushed Mycroft out of her mind. Focus Joan, focus, she told herself. Time to get to work.


End file.
